Beauty, Grief and Memory.

The other day, a moment of encounter in a garden, cream roses floating in sunlight above a carpet of lavender, and the surprise discovery that the ache of joy in beauty has a close affinity to grief. 

That wondering gaze on beauty unlocks an unnamed yearning which gathers in the deep place we call the soul, and to my surprise, gently it takes on a name, and becomes a key that releases powerful memories, of Aileen. 

In grieving, loss is experienced as persistent longing, grief is made sharper by gratitude, and love needs only the slightest reason to remember – and beauty is more than enough reason. 

So as we love those we love and have lost, we remember what was beautiful, we hold on to what brought joy; and we nourish within us what fuels gratitude that will be lifelong, soul deep, and will always be felt as a wound that tells the story of a life. And that wound will not heal, despite all the reassurances it will, because love will not be denied the familiar ache that comes from a felt absence.